


The Devil's Children

by banditess



Series: Ardynoct Week 2017 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hypnotism, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 14:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditess/pseuds/banditess
Summary: Ardyn the Mystic is a stage hypnotist, using his skills as arealhypnotist for profit. In order to demonstrate his skills, he needs a volunteer from the audience...





	The Devil's Children

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ardynoct Week, Day 3: Illusion + Ardyn's Voice is Sexy (and He Knows It). Enjoy! ;)

In the dressing room of The Historic Eldridge Club, Ardyn Izunia -- or Ardyn the Mystic, as he is known on stage -- is finishing applying the last of his makeup when an envelope slides under the door. He gets up to retrieve it, slipping the flap open with his finger.  
  
“ _Break a leg_ ,” reads the handwritten letter inside. Ardyn grins at it and puts the message into his bag for safe-keeping.  
  
One last touch of powder to his nose, and he’s ready. Ardyn the Mystic pulls on his black tuxedo jacket -- the one with the tails -- adjusts his orange scarf, and exits into the backstage area. The only thing he needs for his act is a fainting couch and a single chair, and they have already been set up. Sitting himself down carefully on a chair in the wings at stage left, he waits for house call.  
  
\---------------  
  
“Honored guests, we thank you for attending tonight’s performance,” the mistress of ceremonies, a short woman in a mermaid dress and pearls, greets the audience. Her voice over the mic prompts the crowd to hush one another and start paying attention. “Our act tonight is _no_ act -- his craft is _quite_ real, as he will demonstrate shortly. Without further ado, please allow me to introduce: _Ardyn the Mystic_!”  
  
She extends her hands to stage left -- that’s his cue -- and makes her exit stage right as Ardyn enters and bows to the audience to the sound of their applause.  
  
“Greetings and good evening, dear friends.” Ardyn smiles to them. A quick look at the patrons he had snuck before he’d come onstage revealed that they were mostly persons in their mid- to late thirties, sitting in groups of four, and dressed to the nines. This usually meant groups of friends on outings and couples on double dates, and the occasional relationship of more than two as well. The numbers didn't matter -- the important part was: they were young enough to _believe_ , and old enough to _pay_.  
  
“I imagine you are here because you are _curious_. You’ve surely seen hypnotism in movies, with a man holding a swinging pocket-watch before another person’s eyes, chanting something silly like ‘ _You’re getting sleepy_ ’ or somesuch nonsense,” Ardyn wanders back and forth across the stage as he speaks, his hands behind his back. “And once the subject is in the trance state, they fall under this _master’s_ control and can be _forced_ to do whatever they like. The subject is awakened, and has no memory of what has occurred.” He turns to the crowd. “Does that about sum it all up?”  
  
The spectators chuckle, nodding in acknowledgement.  
  
“Well then, in order to _debunk_ these gross stereotypes, please allow me to show you how _real_ hypnosis works. For this, I will need a volunteer from our audience. Would there happen to be anyone out there willing to give it a try?”  
  
A few tentative hands are raised, and one or two enthusiastic ones. Ardyn singles out a hand that was raised neither anxiously nor overzealously, but simply _confidently_. It’s attached to a man who appears to be slightly younger than the rest of the crowd. His black, well-coiffed hair matches his fine black pinstripe suit.  
  
“How about you, young man? Care to see if you can be hypnotized? No harm shall befall you, I promise.” Ardyn continues smiling.  
  
Catching Ardyn’s eye, the man in the audience points to himself, mouthing __Me?  
  
“Yes, you! Come up, good sir, come up!”  
  
He shrugs a little and stands from his chair. Ardyn prompts the crowd to applaud as the man makes his way through the tables. He scratches his head sheepishly as he ascends the side steps to the stage.  
  
“Now then, would you do us the favor of sharing your name?” Ardyn angles the microphone towards him.  
  
“It’s Noctis, but um…my friends call me Noct,” says Noct, leaning into the mic.  
  
Ardyn takes the microphone back. “Excellent -- welcome, Noctis-whose-friends-call-him-Noct!” The audience laughs. “Let’s get started, shall we? I would like for you to get comfortable on the couch. Relaxation is key for hypnosis, so please do get as comfortable as you can.”  
  
Noct sits on the fainting couch and runs his fingers over the crushed velvet upholstery before swinging his legs up and leaning back into it. It’s really meant for shorter people than him, so the best he can do is to let his feet dangle off slightly.  
  
“For your benefit as well as the audience’s, Noctis, I am going to briefly explain two _very_ important points about _real_ hypnosis.” Ardyn sits in the chair beside the fainting couch and casually crosses his legs. He counts off each item with his fingers. “First, in order to be able to be hypnotized in the first place, one must be _open_ to the _possibility_ of its power. And second, hypnosis only _suggests_ , it cannot _force_. Anything you do while under the trance is done of your own _free will_ \-- you still have a conscience, and you will not do anything you do not _want_ to do.” He looks directly at Noctis. “Do you understand? Are you ready?”  
  
Noct wiggles on the couch, making sure he’s in a good spot. “I think so?”  
  
“Wonderful.” Ardyn smiles genially. He turns to the spectators. “I will now hypnotize our volunteer. What this will involve is soothing him into a state of _deep relaxation_ , so that his conscious mind releases its hold, and his _subconscious_ mind comes out to play. I would ask for complete silence from the audience at this time, please.”  
  
A few _shush_ es go around the room to hush stray murmurs, but eventually all is quiet and still. Ardyn presses on. When he speaks next, his voice is low and husky -- not the chipper voice of the showman on the stage, but something akin to a _bedroom voice_. Several people in the audience shift slightly in their seats as they listen to him, _adjusting_ , and several others begin to fan themselves.  
  
“Listen to the sound of my voice. We are journeying together on a path to your deeper mind. Relax and be still. Let your breath flow through your body. Let it carry us deeper. Listen to the sound of my voice. We are journeying together on a path to your deeper mind. Relax and be still. Let your breath flow through your body. I will guide you deeper.”  
  
As Ardyn continues to repeat his rhythmic recitation, Noct’s eyelids grow heavy, so he closes them. Ardyn’s voice really is soothing. His body feels heavy, too, like it’s going to sink through the couch. He might as well let it. His head lolls back on the armrest, and he is still but for the rise and fall of his chest.  
  
Ardyn turns to the audience and whispers to the microphone, “It would appear he has entered the hypnotic trance -- but let us check.” He turns back to Noctis and speaks normally. “Noctis, are you there?”  
  
“Yeah, I’m here.”  
  
“Excellent, very good. Now why don’t we begin with something simple -- a _question_. Could you tell us your birthday, Noctis?”  
  
“August thirtieth.”  
  
“Ooh, a summer boy,” Ardyn chuckles. “That’s an easy question, though. How about something more _difficult_ \-- something one may not just _reveal_ out of hand. Why don’t you tell us something you’re _afraid_ of?”  
  
“Kenny Crow.”  
  
Ardyn raises an eyebrow at the audience, then rubs his chin as he questions Noct. “ _Kenny Crow_ , you say? As in the _Crow’s Nest_ _Diner mascot_?”  
  
Noctis clenches his fists. “Hate the bastard.”  
  
The crowd titters and giggles at this revelation.  
  
“Noctis, you are safe here. You can relax,” Ardyn says soothingly, and Noct lets his fists unclench. Ardyn clears his throat. “Now now, dear friends -- I’m certain our volunteer has a _perfectly valid reason_ for his animosity. In fact, using the power of hypnosis, it may even be possible to relieve Noctis of his _Crow-phobia_. As a matter of fact, this is an excellent segue to the next demonstration: _suggestion_.”  
  
Wordlessly, Ardyn faces the crowd and brings a finger to his lips, miming a shushing gesture.  
  
“My word, it certainly is _hot_ in this room,” Ardyn’s husky bedroom voice has returned. “Positively _sweltering_ , as a matter of fact. Why, Noctis, I should think that if you were to continue wearing so many layers of clothing, you may very well faint right here on stage! Your temperature is rising already, sweat beading on your brow… You’d better hurry and cool yourself off, Noct -- by _any means necessary_.”  
  
First, Noct removes the pocket square from his suit jacket and uses it as a handkerchief to wipe his forehead. His face is flushed, as though from heat, though it's not clear if he really is sweating. He sits up on the couch, putting his feet back on the stage floor. His eyes are still closed. Noct hesitates only a second before removing his jacket, then unbuttoning his vest and removing that too.  
  
The audience gasps as he plows right on ahead and begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing a lean, fit physique beneath. Standing up, he kicks off his shoes, undoes his belt and unfastens his pants. Several people in the crowd cover their eyes, and several more peek through their covered eyes, witnessing Ardyn grinning wildly at Noctis standing in his boxer-briefs and socks on stage. Noct goes to pull his underwear down too, but Ardyn stops him.  
  
“Ho there! Certain _public decency laws_ forbid us from letting you go any further without particular _licenses_. Fortunately, I'm glad to tell you that the temperature in the room has returned to normal, and your temperature along with it. Isn't that wonderful, Noctis?”  
  
Noct sits down on the couch, seemingly satisfied by this turn of events.  
  
“I think we've had enough fun with our volunteer, wouldn't you say, dear friends? Let us release him.” The crowd laughs. “Noctis? It is time to bring you back -- follow my voice back to your conscious mind, and come back to the stage…Are you there, Noctis? It's time to _wake up_!”  
  
Noct suddenly snaps to attention. He looks down at his bare legs and arms, touches his bare shoulders, then looks around at his clothing strewn about the stage. He claps a hand to his mouth.  
  
Ardyn wags a finger at him. “Remember: Hypnosis cannot _force_ you to do anything you do not _want_ to do. All the same, you were a very good sport. Thank you for volunteering yourself -- please, dear friends, a hearty round of applause for this courageous young man!”  
  
The mistress of ceremonies helps Noct backstage, where he is able to get back into his clothes with minimal embarrassment before returning to his seat to wait out the rest of the show. He doesn't have to wait long -- his demonstration was the bulk of the performance. The crowd gives Ardyn the Mystic a standing ovation, and they even donate extra money to his tip jar on their way out of the door. Noct considers putting in a few gil, but decides against it.  
  
He shuffles out of the theater door with the rest of the audience, then grabs a drink at the club’s bar before closing time. (He doesn't normally drink Old Fashioneds, but this bar is known for them. He's not disappointed with his choice.) The tip he had thought to leave for Ardyn, he gives to the bartender instead, and he steps out into the cool late summer night.  
  
Noct doesn't have to walk far. Just _far enough_. Far enough to be away from prying eyes. Eyes that might see _too much_.  
  
He finds the garishly-colored convertible car five blocks from the club, down a back alley -- just where they said they would meet. He opens the passenger door and gets in. The driver wears a gray hood patterned with black flowers, pulled up over their head. They turn the key in the ignition and start the car.  
  
They don't speak until they are on the highway on the outskirts of town, out of earshot of anyone who might listen in on a conversation being held in an open-top car.  
  
“I can't believe you made me take off my fucking clothes!” Noct shouts.  
  
Ardyn grins, pulling back his hood. “Tut-tut, dear Noct, you must remember _free will_. If you did not want to do it, you simply _wouldn't_.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Noct grumbles. “How’d we do tonight anyway? I almost put some gil in your jar for appearance’s sake, but I was pissed about being in my skivvies on stage, so I gave it to the bartender instead.”  
  
Ardyn chuckles at that. “Between ticket sales and tips, we did well. Better than usual, in fact. I think your _skivvies_ were a hit.”  
  
“Alright, I get it. Could you at least _warn me_ next time you want to try something like that, though? Sheesh.”  
  
“It's a deal.” He pauses. “Thank you for the note before the show, by the way.”  
  
Noct shrugs. “Was nothing.”  
  
Ardyn leans over in his seat, leaving only one hand on the steering wheel. He plants a kiss on Noct's cheek. “You are entirely too good to me.” Both hands back on the wheel. “Now then, where to next?”  
  
Noctis leans back in his seat. “Anywhere with _food._ I'm __starving. And for some reason the thought of eating at Crow’s Nest is making me feel weird right now…”  
  
“Hmm, that is strange indeed…” Ardyn grins. He puts his foot to the pedal, and they drive off into the dark of night.


End file.
